Corporeal Awareness
by Ebyru
Summary: Scott is newly single, and Stiles seems to have gotten more attractive during the summer. But it's more than that.


**A/N:** Un-beta'd. Post season 2. Future fic, I guess. (Written before any of the s3 stuff came around.)

Written for ScottStiles week on Tumblr.

The title was chosen with a random word generator, so it might, in fact, be misleading. Or not. Actually, you might see a connection.

* * *

It's been a month since Scott has ditched Stiles in favour of hanging out with Allison. He actually never realized how much he did it until Stiles started telling him, and then tugging his friendship away in tiny increments. It hurt, to be honest. Scott didn't want to feel like he was losing his best friend ever again.

So, here they are: Stiles is pretending to do the backstroke on his front lawn while Scott watches, seated on a lawn chair and sipping iced tea. Scott had hosed down a huge patch of grass with ice water before Stiles flopped onto it like a fish out of water. He seems to be enjoying himself.

It's the least Scott can do to make up for his shitty behaviour all during the year.

"Dude, why aren't you down here with me?" he asks, turning onto his stomach and raising an eyebrow curiously at Scott.

Scott opens his mouth to reply, but Stiles rolls his eyes and does the breaststroke instead of waiting for whatever Scott was going to say.

There was something on the tip of Scott's tongue, honest to god, but then he noticed Stiles's undershirt starting to cling to Stiles's chest, damp from the moisture in the grass, and the smooth, almost-bronze skin starting to peek out from underneath.

Stiles's eyes are closed, and he's humming some song he shouldn't be – some girly song that gets girls to wiggle their hips in clubs – and Scott cannot process this newfound information.

He's had this funny, intelligent, and actually kind of hot, best friend by his side for _years_. Stiles never once complained about Scott's lack of enthusiasm for most things Stiles likes; he hadn't been frustrated back when Stiles wanted to hunt down murderers and they couldn't because Scott's body was too frail; he didn't even say anything about Allison until he was nearly killed (along with Derek) in the swimming pool.

Stiles is _amazing_, and Scott is a total douchebag for not noticing this sooner. But now that he has, what does he do with this knowledge? Does he tell Stiles he might have realized how likely it is that he's in love with him – even though he's not sure if this is platonic or romantic love yet – or does he pretend like nothing's changed?

How does Scott deal with this – this development? Stiles might think he only wants him now that Allison is out of the picture. And, that aside, what if Stiles still loves Lydia, or has feelings for Derek? (There's a betting pool among the pack to see when Stiles and Derek will have sex.)

Scott rubs the sweat from his brow, trying not to notice the way the muscles in Stiles's arms are flexing, glistening with sweat despite the puddle of cool water soaking his clothes. Why is he even wearing an undershirt-

And there it goes, thrown across the lawn carelessly, just like Scott's better judgment. Stiles hums as he flaps back onto his back, looking at Scott upside down, nothing but his swimming trunks on now.

"Are you gonna stop watching me like that, and actually enjoy some of this water? I can feel it evaporating as we speak," Stiles utters teasingly. His eyes flutter closed, tongue darting out just long enough for Scott to notice, and Scott isn't _breathing_.

There's something about how carefree Stiles is, despite all the trauma they've been through, that has Scott sucking in a breath. He…He can't stop himself from standing, stalking over to Stiles, hovering over him like a shadow – or Derek when he's in one of his famous moods – and just _trying_ to remember how to speak.

Stiles cracks an eye open, starts to turn back over so he can see Scott right side up, but Scott moves faster. He's in Scott's grasp, thrown over his shoulder, and carried up the front steps, then the inside stairs, in a flash.

The only thing Scott hears on the way is: "About freakin' time, man!" That would explain the lack of a struggle.

XXX

Turns out, Stiles was actively _trying_ to seduce Scott. And, _well_, it worked.

It took Scott way too long to realize how well he fits with Stiles, though, so he made up for it the best way he could: by giving Stiles the wettest, dirtiest, most thorough werewolf tongue-bath that he could think up. And, although Scott isn't as descriptive about his fears and ideas as Stiles is – those endearing nervous rants that he experiences once in a while - Scott still has a fully functioning imagination.

Which is how Stiles ends up covered in a sheen of , no longer water and sweat, but Scott's saliva (and maybe a bit of his own come, but that'll be gone as soon as Scott's mouth gets to it).

"Dude, if I knew rolling around like a dog would get you this hot, I would have done it ages ago," Stiles admits, sprawled across his bed and stark naked. Scott has to admit, it's a beautiful sight.

"If I knew I could get you to stop freaking out by giving you four orgasms in a row, I would have asked Derek to pin you down for me," Scott shoots back playfully, stroking up and down Stiles's ribs with admiration.

"That- That's a _thing_ that can happen? Like, Derek is up for just, like, acting as a sexy statue?" Stiles squawks, eyes bulging.

"Stiles, I was kidding." Scott looks up at Stiles, eyes soft, silently hoping he's not serious about the idea of being shared with Derek.

Stiles rolls his eyes, tugging at Scott's arm until he's lying on top of Stiles, skin rubbing and pressing together deliciously. "I was, too. I'm more than fine with one insatiable wolf-boy, thanks."

Scott leans in to kiss Stiles as gently as he can. "Good," he whispers, sucking Stiles's tongue into his mouth. Stiles whimpers, hips moving up weakly to roll against Scott's. Stiles grunts, opening his eyes to narrow them at Scott.

Did he mention? Scott is still fully clothed.

"You're going to shave off a few decades of my life aren't you? Not that I'm complaining when I can't even feel my toes right now."

Chuckling against Stiles's jaw, Scott nips his ear gingerly. He doesn't say 'good' again, but Stiles is humming, and Scott knows he understood.

XXX

Eventually, Stiles snakes a hand into Scott's shorts and around his erection, but he strokes so slowly that it takes half an hour for Scott to finally tip over the edge of his arousal. He's too busy learning the inside of Stiles's mouth to care, though.

Lazy, summer days are best spent with your best-friend-turned-lover.


End file.
